


Are you acquainted with the Dark?

by imkerfuffled



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6293005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imkerfuffled/pseuds/imkerfuffled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yes,” they say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are you acquainted with the Dark?

_“Are you acquainted with the Dark?”_ you ask. _“Do you know it, intimately? Know its wretched might, its deepest depravity? Have you born witness to the calamitous destruction its power has wrought?”_

 

 _“_ _Yes,”_ says Padmé, thinking of forbidden attachments and secret weddings, of Sand People slaughtered in cold blood, of mindless rage and the yellow eyes of a stranger.

 _“Yes,”_ says Obi-Wan, thinking of a master gutted on the end of a red blade, of younglings cut down indiscriminately by one shining blue, of lava and love and betrayal.

 _“Yes,”_ says Anakin, thinking of greedy hutts prospering under blistering double suns, of red-hot retribution as murdering hearts beat their last, of never-ending rage simmering like heat above scorched sand.

 

 _“Yes,”_ says Sidious, thinking of glorious terror shining in a former apprentice’s face as twin blades close around his neck, of Machiavellian seeds sowed and carefully tended under the enemy’s blind eye, of unlimited, intoxicating power coursing through his veins.

* * *

 

 _“Yes,”_ says Leia, thinking of cold black masks and artificial breaths, of a million voices crying out in terror and suddenly silenced, of righteous fury running just under the skin. (Of families torn asunder and dreams destroyed in a blaze of fire.)

 _“Yes,”_ says Han, thinking of frozen carbonite relived daily in nightmares, of Leia sobbing into his shoulder years after Alderaan is no more, of pure evil personified standing at the head of a table while his friend looks on in guilt. (Of child-stealing monsters and grown-up sons wielding red lightsabers.)

 _“Yes,”_ says Luke, thinking of charred bones lying in the sand, of his own face staring up at him through his father’s mask, of purple lightning tearing through his body. (Of devastating failure and history recycled over generations.)

 

 _“Yes,”_ says Vader, thinking of the crush of a windpipe from meters away, of bowing and scraping before his newest and final master, of lies and schemes and purple lightning tearing through his son’s body (Of grandsons tripping over his same mistakes and watching helpless.)  

* * *

 

 _“Yes,”_ says Finn, thinking of babies snatched from homes, of numbers and armor substituted for childhoods, of black robes and red cross-guards hissing through flesh.

 _“Yes,”_ says Poe, thinking of a blaster bolt frozen in place and a general’s son clawing at his brain, of a corrupt Senate deliberately blinding themselves to danger, of Finn dying and coming back only to be struck down again.

 _“Yes,”_ says Rey, thinking of secrets glimpsed in the mind of an enemy, of the man she could see becoming her father dropping like a stone over the bridge, of the voice in her head whispering to _kill, kill_ as she stands over his murderer.

 

 _“Yes,”_ says Kylo, thinking of freedom and triumph and control, of conquering the galaxy in his grandfather’s name, of the brief moment as he watches the man he once called his father fall, and he realizes he does not feel free, he does not feel triumphant, he does not feel in control of anything at all.


End file.
